


Lion's Loss

by PanteraIchigo



Category: Bleach
Genre: Bathing/Washing, F/M, Vaginal Sex, Vanilla
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 14:22:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20508461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanteraIchigo/pseuds/PanteraIchigo
Summary: She had lost everything that was important to her. He was the one who found her, and gave her a reason to live. IchigoxMila-Rose





	Lion's Loss

**Author's Note:**

> This popped into my head one day back in 2010, and I just couldn't understand at the time why nobody had ever written the pairing. This has been posted on my FF.Net and DeviantArt accounts for years. That said, I thought it high time I got it over here as well. Enjoy, even if it's one that some of you may have read before.

Lion’s Loss

A Bleach Fanfic

By Pantera Ichigo (Sabaku no Kyuubi)  
________________________________________________________________________

People weren’t sure how things had gotten to the point that they had now. In fact, most weren’t even sure where she had come from, save for a select few. And all that they had known was that it had started when he had found her.

Aizen had been defeated. And the one who defeated him was without a doubt sure of that. He’d even brought back the Hogyoku and Kyoka Suigetsu (what was left of it) as proof of that. After the defeat of that man, he’d returned to the fake Karakura to see if there was anyone that he could help. Urahara had long before unlocked the Garganta to Hueco Mundo and brought everyone back, Orihime included. Everyone that was an ally was either healed or on their way to being healed. With that in mind, he stayed off to the side and out of the way. It was only by chance that he’d felt that small amount of reiatsu.

The fact that she was still alive when he found her was a miracle to him. Bloodied, burned, and missing an arm, she covered her face with her remaining hand to try to quell the tears that flowed from her eyes. She cried for her friends, for her mistress, and cursed not the Shinigami, but Aizen. If it hadn’t been for him, her mistress would still be alive, and so would her friends. He stepped until he was standing over her broken form. She looked up at him, still crying. Before she could even say anything, he held out the hilt and tsuba of Aizen’s now ownerless weapon and dropped it to the ground.

She stared at the broken sword, tears still flowing, and then looked back up at him. She cowered and covered her head when he lifted his foot, but then her eyes widened when she heard the clear crunch of metal and wood. She looked, seeing the hilt, tsuba, and broken blade of the weapon crushed under his foot. Her eyes found his face again, his own strong eyes staring down from beneath unruly orange bangs.

He’d killed Aizen. That much was clear to her. Her Ressureccion had long sing given way. She couldn’t fight. She didn’t want to fight. There was nothing left for her to fight for. Her mistress and her friends were gone, sacrificed for Aizen’s stupid ambitions. But she didn’t want to die either. That was the reason why she cowered and cried when he bent to one knee before her.

He didn’t strike her, didn’t harm her. Instead, he pitied her. She’d been used and thrown aside. Everything and everyone close to her, they were all gone. She was alone and scared now. That was why, when he bent to her, he cradled her against his chest, letting her sob and cry her anguish out.

“No more killing,” he said quietly. “No more death. There’s been enough of that.”

She believed his words. He was the enemy, but she didn’t care. His words were as strong as his eyes, but warm and full of truth, unlike the cold emotionless lies that Aizen always spoke. Her lone arm cradled around his neck, dragging her face to his shoulder, burying it there in the hard muscle. Her eyes opened when she heard footsteps behind him, only for them to widen, her burying herself in his shoulder and shivering, fist clenching his shihakushou for all she was worth. Ichigo glanced back.

Yamamoto. He was a little worse for wear, even after Unohana had gotten through with him, but otherwise he was himself again. A single gray eye peered out from under the lid at the boy.

“Kurosaki, what is it that you think you are doing?”

Ichigo only spared the Sotaicho a glance before he hefted the young woman into his arms. “I’m helping someone who needs it.” He began walking, she still clinging to his neck even in the bridal carry that he held her in. He passed Yamamoto and then stopped, his expression never changing.

“You are well aware of what she is.” He knew the boy knew. Any fool could tell the woman in his arms was an Arrancar. But he wanted to hear the answer.

“Yeah, but there’s been enough killing today.” He leveled a glare ahead of him. “The war’s over old man. Let the survivors have their peace.”

The old captain simply stood for several minutes. The boy had certainly changed in the short time that he had left for Hueco Mundo. How he acted was a clear indicator. How his power felt was another. And considering his actions and the fact that Aizen was dead because of him…

“Let it be known Kurosaki,” he said slowly, “that she will be your responsibility from this point onward.” Ichigo did not respond at first, and there was silence amongst them, save for the scared whimpering of the woman in Ichigo’s arms. His response came in a single word before he shunpo-ed away.

“Fine.”

There was confusion when he appeared in front of Orihime. Then there was some anger when he asked Orihime to heal the woman in his arms. Some were outraged, others distressed, and some of the more straight-laced were preparing to attack him. Until Yamamoto reappeared amidst them all.

“Leave them be.”

Soifon, now with both arms intact, was the first to say anything. “But Sotaicho-”

“Soifon-taicho, you will leave him be. Him and that girl.”

“But she’s-”

“She’s his responsibility. Now Leave Him Be.”

There was no arguments after that. Orihime healed her, the real Karakura was brought back, and life went on as it had before, without the threat of annihilation. But throughout all of this, there was one thing that everyone noticed immediately.

Effectively, Mila-Rose was a prisoner of war, but without all the necessary detainment. Officially, she was free to do as she pleased when she pleased, so long as Ichigo kept a leash on her. Urahara even made her a special gigai so that she would be able to survive without the need to ingest souls. But then, keeping an eye on her wouldn’t be much of a problem, because she wouldn’t go anywhere without Ichigo. Not because she was forced, but because she wouldn’t leave his side or let him leave hers.

It had first happened in Urahara’s shop. She needed to be fitted for her gigai, and it had required that she strip. Ichigo, being the gentleman that he is, was going to leave the room. When he tried though, Mila had latched onto him and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Please. Stay.”

Ichigo, despite his new strength and calmness, had still raised his brows in surprise and allowed some red to color his cheeks. He glanced away from her. “Ano…I don’t think I-”

Mila looked directly at him, her eyes teary and her lip actually quivering. She gripped him just a bit tighter. “Please?”

Much to the surprise of everyone present, Ichigo relented. He kept his eyes shut the entire time, but he stayed. He even helped her pick out some clothes while the gigai was being made. Although, he’d come out of that red in the face and with a small dribble of blood leaking from the one nostril. Afterward, he’d taken her home.

His sisters had mixed feelings about her when he brought her home. Yuzu was welcoming, as she was with Rukia and anyone else Ichigo had brought home. Karin, well... she was a little shocked. She’d always said he’d have to bring home someone of at least Orihime’s caliber to be surprised by him bringing home a girl, and apparently, he’d finally succeeded. She was a bit suspicious still.

Both twins weren’t lost on how their brother was acting either. His calmness was new, but not necessarily bad. And given his looks and the bit of height he’d seemed to gain, it wasn’t too shocking that he’d brought home Mila-Rose.

Now Ichigo’s dad…there had been the problem. With a shout and a high flying kick, he’d attacked like he normally would when Ichigo came home. This time though, when Ichigo fought back, he kicked his father hard enough to slam him almost through the wall. Actual blood was spilled. And all Ichigo said was, “Knock it off dad. You’re scaring her.”

Indeed he was. Mila knew what Isshin was, and the fact that he’d moved to attack in her direction had sent her into a scared quiver, making her grip onto Ichigo’s shirt and bury her face in it once again. Isshin had tread rather carefully that night.

That first night had been a bit stressful for Ichigo, because the first thing that she did was follow him to the bath. She moved as he did, stripped as he did, and all around followed his every move. He almost didn’t realize her intentions until he turned to throw his shirt in the hamper and there she was, stripped to her bra and panties. He’d stopped, sputtered, tried to dissuade her in every way possible as she just stared at him, and then she looked down and spoke in a quiet voice.

“I was just going to wash your back.”

Even with that calm face, the eyebrow had been breaking new twitch speed records. He finally palmed his face, grabbing a towel. “Fine.” Even he wasn’t sure why he relented, but he did. He did have to admit that it was nice when she scrubbed his back. Sharing the tub had been really awkward, especially when she nestled herself in front of him, right between his legs. If she was freaked out by the happenings of a teenage boy’s body, then she didn’t project her thoughts. She simply leaned up against him.

Then there had been the bed. He had expected her to climb in with him. After the bath, how could he not? He hadn’t expected her to climb in clad in just her underwear. He would have sputtered, but he stopped before it started. At least she was wearing something. He went to sleep back to back with her.

Halfway through the night, he woke up in her cleavage, her arms wrapped as tightly around his head as a snake about its prey. Before he even moved more than the muscles in his eyes, he heard the quiet sobbing, the whisperings, “Halibel-sama, Apache, Sun-Sun” He didn’t need to look up to see the tears. She squeezed him all the tighter, like she was trying to absorb him, maybe even protect him.

He felt his arms move of their own accord, and he squeezed her back. He knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. He knew how it felt to be powerless to have stopped it. If indulging her helped ease her pain, even if just a little bit, then he wasn’t about to say no to her.

Isshin was back to his normal exploits the next morning, and Ichigo was ready for him. Just as his dad jumped for the bed, Ichigo jumped, a hand over Isshin’s big mouth as he slammed his father to the floor as easily and as quietly as he was capable.

“For once dad, listen very carefully.” Ichigo’s tone was all business, and Isshin paid very close attention. The boy jerked a thumb at Mila on the bed. “She does not like it when you attack out of nowhere, and neither do I. She knows what you are, and you attacking scares her.” He pushed hard on his dad, both his chest and mouth, making sure his next message would get across. “From now on, you make one move towards her that scares her, and I promise to put you through the wall. Got it?”

Isshin looked at his son, somehow surprised. He did that on a normal occasion. This time though, Ichigo sounded like he would cause serious harm. That in mind, Isshin nodded. And Ichigo…Isshin shuddered. His son had just taken on a rather Ichimaru Gin-esque smile.

“Good.” He then wasted no time in throwing his dad out the nearest open window, watching the man fall.

“My son, what was that for?!”

“You really thought I wouldn’t throw you out the window?” Ichigo deadpanned before bringing his head back in the window. He moved to leave his room for the bathroom, but he missed the fact that Mila had been wide awake and listening through the whole conversation.

As he’d expected, she followed him to school. Good thing Urahara had the foresight to provide the uniform and the necessary transcript papers for her to become a student. He wasn’t surprised to see Rukia back in the class, but she seemed surprised to see Mila-Rose. She knew he was supposed to keep an eye on her, but she didn’t think she’d be going to school with him. She was over her surprise quickly though.

For the entirety of the day, she was his shadow, either attached to his arm, or following behind him holding a handful of his shirt. People were surprised. Ichigo was back, he’d grown, and he had a new girl practically attached at the hip. The questions were ignored. Although, he got a good laugh when asked if Mila was Chad’s sister.

Uryu was wary of her at first. Chad wasn’t that bad. His thoughts were something along the lines of if Ichigo trusts her, then so could he. Orihime was more than ready to be friends with her. Tatsuki greeted her like she would any normal transfer student, Keigo had acted like always did, asking why Ichigo got all the girls, Mizuiro tried to hit on her and failed miserably, and Rukia…well, not all roads lead to a silver lining. She refused to talk to her. Actually, Rukia barely looked at her. It went on like that for most of the morning.

When it was time for lunch, Ichigo found that little Yuzu had seen fit to pack two lunches, one of which Mila was all too eager to have. It had been a long time since she’d had real human food, and she found that Yuzu’s cooking was some of the best that she could remember. She had blushed when Ichigo had picked a piece of rice off of her cheek. No one commented, but Rukia had scowled.

The day ended without incident. The group of friends all said their goodbyes, and Ichigo stalked off with Mila hanging off of his arm. He didn’t miss Rukia following a few feet behind him. Of course she was going to be staying with his family. He expected that much, since she pretty much did every time that she came to the world of the living. However, he did miss the scowl that she was leveling at the back of his and Mila’s heads.

She kept up the normal cutesy girl act for Yuzu and Karin, though it was more for Yuzu at this point. She knew about Isshin of course, and he kept his act up as usual as well. Although, Ichigo had to wonder if that was actually an act at this point. The man did not attack him or Mila. However, when he hugged Mila, even Ichigo got a good laugh of the bewildered look on his new charge’s face.

Rukia was quiet through most of dinner, Isshin and Yuzu were jovial, and Karin was Karin. However, Ichigo and Mila were being nauseating. Ichigo had been surprised when she held a chopstick of food for him, but he’d accepted. He did the same for her and she accepted with a smile. This continued for the entirety of the meal, attributing to everyone’s mood, and the feeling in Karin’s stomach.

After dinner, everyone else got a good surprise when they followed the strawberry and his charge, only to find them going to the bath together. Even Rukia and Karin had put an ear to the door for that. They heard a thump, a low groan, and the whisper of “Ichigo…” followed by an airy moan.

If any of them were to turn any darker, then their names could have been called Ichigo. And while red on the outside, Rukia was also seeing red. Enough red that she slammed open the door without a second thought. There was Ichigo on his back, rubbing the forming lump on the back of his head, Mila atop his stomach, his hand at her side, both sans clothing. They both glanced at their audience and reacted accordingly.

Finding her normal personality rather quickly, Isshin received a bucket to the face courtesy of Mila. Rukia dodged a glare from Ichigo, along with a stool, a bar of soap, and a bottle of shampoo, getting as far from the door as possible. Karin just covered Yuzu’s eyes as she deadpanned the two of them.

“You know, if you’re gonna do that, do it in the bedroom.”

“GET OUT!” The two were in unison until the door closed and they looked back at each other. Mila looked away first, getting off and pulling him into the sitting position, his legs crossing and his hands covering him as well as he could. She knelt before him, looking anywhere but him, her own hands covering herself. Her voice was rather small when she spoke.

“Gomen.”

Ichigo just blinked, doing his level best to keep his eyes above her neckline. Then he just grinned. “Don’t worry about it.” From there, he moved her to their recovered stool. She did notice that he was rather gentle when he washed her back, and he missed the blush that appeared this time when she stepped into the same position that she had the night before.

For the better course of a month, this was normal. The two of them went everywhere together. If Ichigo went out, so did Mila. If Mila wanted to go somewhere, Ichigo went with her. They bathed together, the embarrassment between them quick to subside after the first couple of experiences, and of course, they shared a bed.

No one really questioned it after a while. Granted, Ichigo’s family had to be chased away from both doors many, many times, along with Rukia, and there was the occasional case where whisperings started up after Ichigo was found waiting outside the school bathroom for Mila, and vice versa, but these were quickly dismissed.

Over the course of that time, Mila slowly regained her normal personality, and Ichigo almost did a face palm as she did. It was almost like dealing with a female Renji. Although, she never really argued with him. And she never stopped following him around. When it came to him, she was very much obedient, and he never really questioned it. It was what she wanted to do, so he didn’t say anything. Besides, in his mind, he was helping her. Who was he to turn her away from something she needed.

Rukia didn’t really bother them after them after the first night. In fact, save for listening in sometimes, she barely interacted with them at all. At least, not when Mila was around. Halfway through that first month, she had cornered Ichigo waiting for Mila outside the bathroom, his arms crossed and his face set to that calm look he’d had since Aizen’s defeat.

“Ichigo, just what are you thinking?”

He’d quirked an eyebrow at her. “What are you on about now?”

“Ichigo, she’s an Arrancar. Why are you helping her?”

That calm look became a scowl. “That’s none of your business.”

“Why not?”

“It’s personal.”

“So personal that you let her bathe with you?”

His only response for that was to blush. “Look, just drop it.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re helping her.”

Neither one noticed Mila’s presence standing just inside the bathroom door. She leaned with her back to the wall listening in on the conversation. Outside, Ichigo gave Rukia a rather pointed look.

“You really don’t know, do you Rukia? For being my friend, you really don’t know how I think, do you?”

Rukia was slightly taken aback at that. Was he implying that she wasn’t his friend just because she couldn’t figure this out? No, that was absurd, but clearly, he expected her to at least figure it out.

Ichigo leaned back against the wall, his eyes a bit glassy. “Rukia, I only lost my mother. It hurt like hell, and I still haven’t completely gotten over it.”

Mila had listened on the other side of the door with rapt attention. Rukia had just stared at her friend. “Ichigo…”

His head turned toward her, scowl back again. “So tell me something, how do you think Mila-Rose feels, having lost everything important to her?” He’d seen the understanding flash across her face instantly. “Got it yet?”

Rukia’s only response was to look ashamed and nod. “Good. Then let it be.” On the other side of the door, Mila had a hand over her mouth, stifling the sobs as the tears came.

That had been half a month before. Rukia had backed off the subject some, and even started to be a little friendlier with Mila after that. Although, she quickly realized the same thing that Ichigo did. It was like dealing with Renji. The two of them fought, bickered back and forth, and all around got on the other’s nerves. It took Ichigo to make them knock it off. Even in that case, Mila never argued with him.

Staring at the bathroom ceiling as he was now, hands behind his head and thinking over the events of the past month, even Ichigo wasn’t sure why he let things develop like they had. Sure, he tried to rationalize his reasons, but even then, he couldn’t find a real explanation. He breathed deep, letting out the sigh slowly.

Mila stirred at his chest, glancing up at him. “Something wrong Ichigo?”

“Just thinking.”

“About your mother?”

Ichigo, if he was surprised, didn’t move. “Heard it all that day, didn’t you.”

“Every word.”

“Thought so.” One of his arms shifted so that it was resting across the back of her shoulders. Mila felt herself curl in on him just so. He almost felt warmer than the water by now.

“Sorry,” she said.

“For what?”

“Being a burden.”

“You’re not.” He breathed deep again. “If that were the case, I would have said so a long time ago.” He felt a hand lay across one of his pectorals.

“Is it okay if I stay for good then?”

Again, Ichigo didn’t move, save for the light stroke of her shoulder. “Yeah.” He returned to his thoughts rather quickly after that.

Mila was quick to follow those actions. She’d noticed that she was doing a lot more of that lately as well. And given what those thoughts were usually about, she wasn’t surprised by the next few lines that left her lips.

“Ichigo?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you kiss me?”

Apparently he wasn’t surprised either, because he barely moved before he said, “Sure.”

His head tilted forward towards her just as she towards him. Amber met light emerald for the barest of moments before that short gap was closed. Mila had turned by this point, the front of her body pressing against his, soft, generous breasts pressing against the hard expanse of his chest.

For his first kiss, Ichigo thought that he did pretty well, even if he had no real idea of what he was doing. He would not deny that he was enjoying himself. Mila’s lips were pillow soft against his, so warm and pliable to his own as the two of them pushed against the other’s.

Mila herself was pleasantly surprised by the feel of his lips. His face was strong and angular, his jaw chiseled and hard. However, for all that strength and hardness, his thin lips were ever so soft. A little chapped to be sure, but still soft. It almost made her laugh; someone so strongly built having such a tender kiss.

After several moments, the two of them parted, taking in a deep breath, their eyes opening to take in the other once again. Mila Rose just stared at the young Shinigami savior beneath her, words lost on her. In turn, he stared up at her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Neither moved for what seemed like very long time, until Ichigo did. Mila was only just aware of the hand that came to rest on her cheek, the other combing its way through her thick locks of chocolate hair. When the pressure came, she went with it willingly, her lips once again locked in a sweet kiss, and her evergreen eyes slipping closed.

Ichigo felt both hands very clearly. One of her arms circled under his arm, the hand coming to rest just between his shoulder blades as the other fisted his newly grown orange strands. The hand he had on her cheek moved, sliding slowly down her side and coming to circle at her waist. He pulled her forward, smashing her up against his front. She pulled against him all the harder, her breasts molding to the muscles of his chest. He felt hardened nipples scrape along his flesh.

They would have continued if not for the thump at the door. They had stopped, both glancing at the door to see it slid open just enough for someone to peek through. They parted and they both scowled. Ichigo growled and hefted the nearby bar of soap. He tossed it up once or twice to gauge the weight, and then sent it flying.

The bar slipped through the open door easily and they were rewarded with the sound of his father grunt of pain. The door shut quickly, and they both heard the scrambling of at least a few other people outside the door. Karin could be heard talking. “I told you he’d notice.”

Another voice spoke, Yuzu this time. “But-but! They were kissing!”

“And you’re surprised by this how?”

Isshin was heard now. “Oh my son! You’re finally becoming a man!”

And then Rukia. “I didn’t think Ichigo would actually do it. He’s such a beast.”

“Oh sweet, dear, innocent Rukia! Worry not! My beast of a son shall not harm you!”

Ichigo’s temper finally hit the roof. He through the bucket at the door this time, making it thump rather loudly. “Knock it off already!” The scrambling left the outside of the door, and Ichigo sighed. He glanced at Mila, who had taken up her spot at his chest again, facing away from him. A perfect moment, ruined by his family and Rukia. “Mila, listen-”

“Ichigo…” Ichigo raised a brow. She sounded nervous. That was new. Sure, at the beginning of their time together, she’d been a little meek and somewhat withdrawn. Then as time went on, she had begun to sound rather confident and cocksure, just like himself, Renji, Rangiku, or some of the other Shinigami that he knew. But nervousness, coming from her, was not something he was used to.

She turned to him, her dusky cheeks tainted by red. “Ano… I… that is…”

He raised a brow at her. “What?”

“Could we…” She started to blush all the harder. This was harder than she thought it would be. For crap’s sake, she’d bathed with him for over a month. Why was she so nervous now? Maybe it would just be easier to do.

“What Mila? Out with it already.”

The Arrancar woman just shook her head. “Never mind. It’s nothing.” Almost immediately she was up and grabbing her towel. She refused to look at him. Ichigo just watched her for a minute before rising out of the tub as well, pulling the plug as he did. The two of them dried, wrapping their towels around themselves, having left a spare set of clothing out in his room. The hallway was empty when they came out. Probably a good thing too, otherwise they would never hear the end of Isshin’s ranting. When they got to Ichigo’s room though…

Ichigo was surprised to hear the sharp click of a lock after the door closed. It was almost booming, considering how quiet it was. He looked back at Mila, she facing the door, her hand on the lock. “Mila?”

She didn’t answer him. She still didn’t look at him. Instead, she grasped his hand tightly in hers, moving slowly further into his room. Ichigo stayed stationary until she pulled on his arm, and then he followed her just as slowly. The only light on in the room was a small lamp on his dresser, which provided just enough light to cast a moderate glow over the whole of the room.

She sat on the edge of the bed, still grasping his hand while he stood over her, and still refusing to look at him. He sat next to her, placing his unoccupied hand on her shoulder to turn her towards him. “Mila, what’s-” As he turned her to him, she silenced him with a kiss. Once again he felt himself become amazed at how soft her lips were and she his. They parted, but she stayed close, her forehead pressed up against his.

“Ichigo…” She still sounded nervous, but now he had a good idea why. “You were being serious when I asked if I could stay for good, right?”

He felt his hand get squeezed a bit tighter. She was shaking, and even so close, still refusing to meet his eyes. She wasn’t just nervous, he realized. She was afraid. Afraid of what he might say. But he’d already answered. It was still the same.

“Yes.” He squeezed her hand back. Now she met his eyes. “You won’t lose me, Mila.” He grinned.

At that very moment, Mila-Rose looked she wanted to cry, but then she quickly blinked it away, all but the two lone tears that streamed from the outer corners of her eyes. She leaned away from him and smiled. “I’d better not.”

Ichigo kept his grin, bringing a hand up to her face, fingers combing into her hair and thumb wiping away the tear on her cheek. “Promise.”

She sniffed once, wiping her eyes on the back of her arm. She kept her smile, bringing her hands up, one laying across the hand on her face, the other slowing caressing his forearm. She turned her head, kissing his palm and knuckles. He slowly guided the hand towards himself and their eyes met again, just before their lips.

For a third time, the two of them enjoyed the plush softness of each other’s lips. Although, there was the sharp intake of breath and a gasp when Ichigo felt the tentative lick of Mila’s tongue on his bottom lip. Hands fisted in the lush locks of his hair, the action reciprocated by one of his own. The other found its way around her, pulling her towel clad body closer to him.

Mila was delighted when she felt his lips open. Her exploration of his mouth began slowly, tracing along his teeth and gums before delving deeper. Their tongues made the first tentative touch before entwining in an awkward dance for dominance. Mila quickly lost, allowing his rough, wet organ to intrude in her mouth. She let out a moan when his tongue dragged across her palate, then following her own tongue to dance with it again.

They continued for several minutes before they parted, a string of saliva connecting them by the bottom lip. They exchanged several small kisses before Mila backed away from him, moving toward the head of the bed. She panted as she moved, drawing Ichigo’s eyes to the steady rise and fall of her breasts.

When she reached the pillow, she laid back, hand on either side of her head. She watched him closely, her look smoldering as her eyes slowly clouded with the smoky haze of lust. She saw him swallow, saw the muscles in his jaw and throat tighten. She heard the sharp intake of air that came with the heavy rise she saw in his chest. He shifted uncomfortably, she taking notice of the tent slowly pitching itself beneath the towel.

How enticing she must have been to him, she knew too far too well. A month of sharing the bath with him had made it all too clear. But then, it had been that way the very first night. She had felt it. Even for the warmth of the water, his penis had been so hot and hard against her side. Almost impossible to ignore, but it had been. After that night, it was still noticed, but always ignored by both. She could only imagine how much that hot, hard cock had pained him, pained for release. But she would see to that. No more pain for him.

“Ichigo.” His eyes darted from her chest to her face and then away, ashamed and blushing. That wouldn’t do. “Ichigo…” His eyes were back. Her tone was light and airy. Warm, husky, and promising. Her hand moved to her towel, and it was quickly discarded. She lay nude before him, face flushed and breathing steadily growing deeper as she panted. Around her head, her hair spread out like a brown halo. She watched his eyes move, a strange tingle tracing everywhere that they roamed. She shivered. He could see everything.

Ichigo felt a desert in his throat. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. His eyes were beyond him now, taking in long expanses of cocoa skin. He paused briefly on perfectly formed breasts, capped with dusky brown nipples, and the apex of her thighs, a small, trimmed triangle of brown curls between her barely parted legs. His eyes focused on her arms when they raised and she reached out for him.

“Ichigo…come here.” She smiled for him, a tremble in her voice. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

He was slow to accept her invitation, but he accepted. He crawled until he was on all fours over her body. Mila wrapped her arms around his neck, still smiling. She pulled until his lips were an inch from hers. The only reason that she stopped was because he spoke.

“Mila, are you sure?”

She didn’t answer him verbally. She only pulled him into another kiss, her tongue invading his mouth like a charging army. He dropped to his elbows, feeling her breasts press up against his chest as his tongue dueled with hers. The two parted, Ichigo’s hand slipping beneath her back as he began to plant little kiss along her jaw, the hand splaying out between her shoulder blades. His reward for the small kisses was an airy moan, almost inaudible. He kept it up, reaching her neck and feeling her pulse under his lips. He sucked at the spot, she arching her back and pressing her whole front against him.

He would have continued, had Mila not flipped him onto his back. He was surprised when she grasped his wrists and held him down, her naked form straddling his stomach. Even as he scowled at her, he was idly aware of the wetness he felt on his midriff. His nose picked up the sharp, musky scent of arousal. He felt his dry mouth salivate, his erection painful as more blood was trapped in its turgid length.

Mila Rose panted as she held against his struggling, unsure of why she felt so over sensitized. But seeing him pinned beneath him made her feel so warm inside. She felt that warm tingle between her legs slowly begin to itch. Ichigo glared up at her, and she felt that tingling double in intensity. “Mila…” His tone was warning. She only giggled at him.

“Ichigo.” She leaned forward, her hair a chocolate curtain around his head. “I said it’s my turn to take care of you.” She leaned into his neck, taking a deep breath through her nose. He was beginning to sweat. Wonderful. “After a month of putting up with me, it’s the least I can do.” He tongue laved the hollow of his throat, and he almost unseated her when her teeth latched onto his flesh and she gave it a powerful suck. “So please, let me?”

He glanced at her face, and then relaxed in her grip. Her hands skittered along the length of his arms, gentle pressure on his muscles. He lay still, save for the small movements when she hit the right spot. Her lips left the hollow of his throat and traveled to his sternum, small lingering kisses left in her wake.

In truth, aside from taking care of him, she wanted to truly take him in. Kissing and licking down the stretch of his chest, she took in the form of his muscles. It was almost like warm, flesh wrapped steel. Underneath, he was hard and strong, muscles like wiry cables, but outside, his skin was warm and soft. Reaching the top of his abs, she giggled when a light dusting of orange hair tickled her nose. It was thin, almost nonexistent, save for the smallest of strands. She nuzzled up against the hard muscle of his abdomen, the warm skin and tiny hairs like velvet under her cheek and hands. The muscles twitched under his skin when her tongue dipped into his navel.

And as she had moved, she had not missed the scars. On anyone else, they would have seemed odd; a teenager with so many battle scars. Some were large and long, others needle thin and short, all a pale contrast to his slightly tanned skin. They were rather sensitive areas too, as the muscles jumped when she lightly traced them under her fingers. However, as she was now, she could see what was probably the worst he’d had. That Orihime girl had done a commendable job, but even she couldn’t completely rid him of this wound. A thin white scar, just above his towel, trailing almost the entire circumference of his waist. She took special care to leave a long kiss and leave a trail of saliva along the length of it that crossed his waist.

Propped up on his elbows, Ichigo watched her. His breathing was heavy and deep, an odd tingle in his muscles that made them twitch with every move she made. Passing the dip of his navel, he watched her drag her face and tongue along his flesh until she came to the tented towel at his waist. She glanced at him, and his eyes widened when she smiled, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. She unwrapped the towel and discarded it as she had her own, and he let out a relieved sigh as cool air hit his overheated flesh. That sigh turned to a gasp when he felt her foreign hand wrap around his length.

Mila relished his reaction, but truthfully, she only had a small idea of what she was doing. She judged him as his penis throbbed in her hand. He would probably be called average, or perhaps a little better at about seven to seven and a half inches long, and about an inch and a half thick. She ran her fingers along his member, only squeezing enough to apply a light pressure. For every move she made, the cock pulsed and twitched in her hand, its owner letting out several small grunts and moans.

A small bead of pre-cum oozed from the tip of the engorged pink head. Mila slowed her ministrations, her thumb pressing against the head, collecting the small sample before she stopped altogether. The clear fluid was sticky as she rubbed her thumb and forefinger together, a thin string connecting the two when she brought them apart.

Ichigo could only stare when she stuck the ends of those two fingers between her lips. She made sure to catch his eye when she licked her lips. He felt his cock twitch when her warm breath blew against it. He almost seized up when she kissed the crown of his dick. He began to pant when she caught his eyes again, her own half-lidded as her warm breath washed over him. His eyes widened when her lips parted. “Wait. Mila-” His sentence was cut short when he threw his head back, Mila taking the head of his member between her soft lips.

Mila took her hands off of Ichigo’s shaft, pressing down on his thighs to keep him still. She took a light suck of the organ between her lips, feeling him jerk under her hands. He was salty, the little bit of pre-cum a bit watery and musky to her taste buds. Different, but not unpleasant. She took another inch of him into her mouth, her tongue rubbing back and forth on the underside of his cock, tasting more and more of his warm skin. Another inch, and another. As she tried to take in the fifth inch, she felt him touch the back of her throat, her eyes tearing up as she gagged against him. She backed off quickly, coughing against his leg and spilling saliva with every one.

Ichigo leaned forward in concern. He was still panting. “Mila-”

“I’m okay,” she assured him, laying a hand against his stomach. She let out a cough and a grin. “I’m fine.” Before he could argue the matter, she had taken the crown of his phallus back between her lips.

She was more careful about how far she took him in this time, stopping at half of his length. Her cheeks caved in a she took a particularly strong suck. The taste of salt hit her as more pre-cum spilled onto her tongue. Sitting as he was now, one arm circled his back, hand coming to rest at the base of his spine, the other coming up to fondle his testicles. She felt a hand on her head, felt him shake and shiver as she continued her treatment of his cock, alternating between slow strokes of her tongue and lips, and sucking, taking care not to bite down.

Ichigo let out a gasp after a particularly strong suck, but calmed when he felt the cool air hit his saliva coated cock. He felt her face press against the underside of it, her tongue lapping at his balls and base. Her warm breath only added to the feeling, feeling himself pulse. Mila dragged her tongue up along the underside before she sucked on the very tip. She felt him shudder all the harder when she licked at the slit. However, as much as she was enjoying the act, she wasn’t sure that she could keep up with him. Her jaw was starting to get tired, and she had honestly thought he would have cum by this point. Dipping her head back down his length, she lavished him with her tongue. After several more languid moments of worshiping his organ, she truly felt herself, and her jaw, begin to tire

She backed off, laying on her stomach, panting slightly as she rested with her cheek against his thigh. This was far more difficult than she thought it would be. She glanced at the rigid phallus jutting upward in front of her face. It twitched and pulsed with the beat of Ichigo’s heart, and that pulse was beginning to slow. She glanced up at Ichigo. He was still panting, but his breathing was deeper, more controlled now without the stimulation of Mila’s mouth. He turned his gaze on her and grinned. It was a grin that she knew she wasn’t going to like.

She yelped when he pulled her up to his pillow. Like she had him, he pinned her under him, and while he had at least been able to struggle enough to move her, she could not. He was bigger than her, heavier, and much stronger. Her breathing was still heavy. “Ichigo…” she breathed out, trying to push up against him, but he held her firm. With no hint of warning, his mouth found her throat. She gasped when his teeth gripped her skin, sharp edges digging in, but he was gentle as he pulled on the flesh. His lips sealed about the same flesh, sucking on it, making sure that he would leave a mark.

In truth, he was inexperienced as all hell. Okay, yes, sex-ed was standard teaching for students anymore, so of course he knew mechanics and theory. Actual practice was another case entirely. So, he simply went with what his mind told him: listen closely, and pay attention.

He had let go of her hands some time after he started leaving little hickeys along the length of her neck, the one moving to the small of her back, pressing her up against him. The other moved across her smooth tummy, eliciting an airy laugh when he hit a ticklish spot. He lifted his head and grinned at that, making sure to lightly trace the spot with his fingers several times. His reward for it was a small fit of giggling, which went on until she grabbed that hand, holding it still as she caught her breath and sent a playful glare at him.

“Mou…Ichigo, that’s not fair.” Even with the light sheen of sweat beginning and the fact that her hair was a little messier than before, he couldn’t help but find the pout on her lips adorable.

“Sure it is.” He started the slow kisses down her collarbone. “After all…” Kiss. “I’m just… paying you back…for this.” He pressed his erection against the smooth thigh nestled in between his own.

Mila moaned lightly at the kisses. “Oh…But I was, Ah… just trying to make, aah, you cum…” She couldn’t hold in the gasp when the tickling hand slid to her breast and gave a light squeeze. He squeezed a bit harder, and she let out a pained moan. “Ichigo, be gentle… please?”

He lessened his grip, rolling the orb of flesh softly in his grip. She tensed up when her hard nipple traced across the rough palm of his hand. Even as he squeezed her breast and kissed a slow line of kisses down the valley of her chest, she was idly aware of just how rough his hand was. Time with a sword had turned his palms into a plain of calluses; something she was rather thrilled to feel rub against her soft, sensitive flesh. She moaned when she felt his teeth scrape along one of her fleshy globes, rough tongue trailing saliva.

She arched against him when he slipped the dusky, hardened flesh between his lips, almost lifting him and herself off the bed. The startled cry that left her rang sharp in his ears, hands pulling him against her flesh as he gave a sweet little suckle of her tit. On the opposite breast, a brown nipple was twisted lightly while the tip of his rough tongue pressed and prodded against the one held carefully between his teeth. He leaned back until he was sitting, pulling her so that she was seated in his lap. She clutched at head for all she was worth, trying to pull him into her. She was somewhat disappointed when his lips left her teat, but arched when he took the other in, giving it the same treatment he had its twin. She was idly aware of his dick as it pressed up against her stomach, just as he was of the warm moisture he felt against his leg.

The hand at her back moved without her noticing. When that hand reached down to cup her sex, she had to bite a finger to keep from moaning too loudly. Long rough fingers stroked her, moving slowly back and forth along the length of her slit. Ichigo felt her nails claw at his back. He opened his eyes and glanced up at her from his position at her tit. She was starting to sweat, her face scrunched up in pleasure, and her teeth digging into the flesh of her finger, muffling her moans and squeals.

He dipped the tip of his middle finger into her vagina, dragging it slowly along. Her eyes flew open, and their gazes met. Sucking lightly on her nipple, fingertip barely stirring the inner rim of her pussy, he watched her. He was almost certain she’d draw blood if she bit her finger any harder. She shook against him as his finger dipped a little deeper, her head leaning forward onto his. He stirred his finger in little circles, feeling her wet, rough inner walls. She let out a disappointed moan when he pulled his finger from her, but seized up when it came back again, his ring finger accompanying it. Using both arms to steady herself against him, she couldn’t hold back the load squeal that formed in her throat.

Mila fell against him, arms about his shoulders. She wanted to chastise herself. She was supposed to be making him feel good, but she couldn’t help herself. His strokes were slow and torturous, and his rough palm pressed hard against her clit. That tingle had long ago become a burning itch. The pressure she felt at her waist was almost unbearable, and it was only getting worse. She buried her face in his neck, eyes trying desperately to stay open against his ministrations. This was his first time, right? Was he really as good as he seemed, or did he pick this stuff up quickly? She really didn’t care about the answer. She just wanted him to keep going

She bucked against his hand, her clit rubbing over rough, hard calluses, driving his fingers a little deeper into her canal, sinking them until they came to the knuckle. He spread the two fingers, twisting them and pressing them against her wet flesh. She almost wailed against his flesh at his action, and humped his hand a little harder. She had long ago sunk down, exposing her neck to him when she buried her face in his own. Opening his mouth wide, he bit down into her the base of her neck just as his fingers made a particularly strong thrust against the frontal walls of her vagina.

She wasn’t sure if it was his fingers or the bite that finally set her off, but the spring she’d felt coiling and building up the pressure finally snapped. She felt herself contract around his fingers, trying to draw them farther in, but to no avail. She almost screamed into his neck, holding him tightly as little lines of red were streaked down his back. She shivered heavily against him for several more moments before she fell back on the bed, panting and her body letting off a considerable amount of sweat.

Ichigo watched her, and he felt a rather intense feeling of satisfaction. Seeing her lying their, sweaty and shivering because of him was something that warmed his pride all the way to the bone. He looked at his hand. She had cum, her fluids dripping over his fingers and down the back of his hand. He spread the two finger he’d had inside her. The fluid between them was viscous and warm, a slightly musky scent to it, a string or two stretching between the digits. He gave one finger the barest of licks, catching more than enough to get a decent taste of her.

The taste was hard for him to describe or place. The taste was like its smell: musky and thick, almost spicy as it spread across his tongue, mixed with the tangy taste of salt. Ichigo felt himself salivate at that small taste. It was new and different, but he enjoyed it. He was going to have a second taste when Mila rapped a thin hand around his still erect penis. He looked down at her to see her smiling up at him, her panting almost under control. He blushed, coiling his wet fingers into a fist as he looked away from her. “I… um…”

She tittered, lightly stroking him, coaxing more pre-cum from the tip of his engorged member. Was he embarrassed because he enjoyed her taste? Oh, what a silly boy. She’d done the same of him as well. But still, that blush on his strong chiseled face was just so damn cute for her. She squeezed his penis a little harder and pulled on him. He moved with the hand, to keep her pull from being painful. He quickly found himself on his knees between her spread legs. She grabbed his sticky hand and brought it to her lips, takings the wet digits between her lips ad sucking. And though he wouldn’t say it, his blood boiled over when he say that. He felt himself throb in her hand.

Mila mused over her own taste, finding herself to be just a bit less salty than him, and maybe a bit more musky. She could live with it. She felt his cock throb in her hand as she slowly worked his fingers out from between her lips, eyes half lidded in pleasure as she stared at him. She grinned when she let his hand go, her own hand moving to the puffy lips of her pussy.

“Ichigo,” she almost whispered. She used her fingers, spreading her moist nether lips apart to expose the rosy pink flesh within. “It’s time for you to feel good too.”

“Mila…” He swallowed, bringing some moisture back to his throat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to last all that long.”

She only tittered at his words. “That’s fine.” Truthfully, she wasn’t expecting him to last all that much longer. She could feel his pre-cum leaking on her, how he throbbed in her hand, how engorged and hot he was with blood. She gaze a light squeeze of him, and the pained look that crossed his face almost hurt her. It was time to relieve him. She pulled lightly on him, feeling the tip at her opening as she guided him in. “Now come on. No more holding back.”

Ichigo couldn’t stop the moan that he let out when he slipped into her. She felt so warm, so wet, and she wrapped so tightly around him. He sank into her slowly, inch by inch until he felt himself bottom out, his thighs and testicles pressing against the soft, peachy brown cushion of her ass. He didn’t move, trying to stave off the throbbing of his cock. Virgin or not, he at least wanted to try not disappointing her.

Beneath him, Mila writhed and fisted his sheets in her hands. She knew she hadn’t been a virgin when she died, and from what she was feeling, that was still the case. She felt so full with Ichigo inside, her walls stretching and shifting to accommodate his girth. She could feel every bump and groove of him, all of his hard, hot length being squeezed deliciously by her body. She let out a moan when she felt his thighs meet her buttocks. She looked at Ichigo, wrapping her arms around his neck. He looked even more pained now than he had before, his breathing heavy and his eyes cloudy. “Go ahead…Ichigo,” she said, her own breathing ragged and heavy. “Please… fuck me.”

It was all the invitation that he needed to begin his thrusts. The first few were clumsy and a bit slow, even if Mila moaned and squirmed for every single one, but he quickly found a rhythm that worked for him. Over and over again, he pumped his dick into her deliciously hot depths. He felt the sweat begin to bead across his forehead. He planted his arms at her sides to steady himself.

For every thrust, Mila gripped at his shoulder, her nails digging in small grooves, and a wanton moan escaped from her lips. Every moan grew in volume as the two of them continued, and Ichigo wasn’t anywhere close to stopping. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as deep into her as she could. She squealed when his cock hit a spot inside her that sent an electric bolt up her spine. She let go of his neck and collapsed back against the pillow, both hands over her mouth to muffle her cries, her eyes shut tight.

Ichigo slowed his thrusts, trying to keep himself going for as long as he could. Mila’s eyes cracked open to look at him, still stifling her moans against her hands. His arms encircled her, and he pulled her into his lap. Her eyes widened and then shut tight again, her hands tightening over her mouth as her cries grew louder. She bounced in his lap, her chest rubbing against his, still trying to stifle her moans and squeals beneath her hands.

Ichigo pulled her close, nipping at her ear while he fucked her. “Mila. Take your hands away.”

Her eyes widened and then clenched shut again when another hard thrust hit the right spot deep in her cunt. She shrieked into her palms, her hair flying about when she shook her head vigorously. Pleasured little tears were appearing at the corner of her eyes.

“I want you to,” he insisted, bending to suckle her tit. Another muffled shriek. She brought her hand away just enough to speak.

“What about- ahhn- your family?” He bucked harder, and she covered the loader moan. He lightly bit at her nipple, and another, loader moan was stopped.

“I don’t care anymore,” he said, gritting his teeth to keep calm as he slowed his thrusts. “They’re probably…listening anyway.” He squeezed her against him. “I want to hear…the sounds you make…”

For several moments, save for the bouncing in his lap and covering her mouth, Mila barely did anything. Then her hands moved under his arms and hooked onto the flesh of his back. This was immediately followed by a hard thrust up from Ichigo. Mila squealed, one likely heard all over the house, and buried her face in Ichigo’s shoulder. Moans and squeals now uncensored, Ichigo’s thrusts sped back up.

The two of them continued for several more minutes until Ichigo’s thrusts became faster and even more erratic. At that point, Mila made sure that her legs were locked around his waist, and that the grip on his shoulders was a firm one. “Ichigo…please keep going…” That now familiar pressure had built to a point once again, and she could feel herself coming up on the edge. “I’m so close…”

“Mila…” He choked on his words as he tried to stave off his impending ejaculation. “I’m gonna…”

She locked her legs tighter and clawed at his back, leaving small indents and drawing a small amount of blood. “It’s okay…” she whispered in his ear amidst a moan. A thin trail of drool dripped down her face from the corners of her mouth. She drew breath through grit teeth, she bucking against him to help them both along. “Just let go…”

As if waiting for that particular order, he gave two final thrusts before burying himself as deep into her pussy as he could, his cock throbbing wildly as he splashed her insides with his seed. Just as he did this, he felt Mila constrict almost painfully around him.

She couldn’t remember a situation, or anything, that had felt this good. Just as the first hot spurt of semen hit her womb, that pressure finally hit the breaking point and she felt herself teeter over the edge. She shook and shivered, screaming against his flesh, digging another set of thin red scratches down his back. She could feel it. Spurt after spurt, his thick, warm, sticky seed found a home deep in the recesses of her womb. The warmth moved through her, slowly spreading out within her pussy, until she felt some of it drip out and down the length of her thighs, her own juices mingling with it. All she could do was shiver and moan.

For several minutes, neither of them moved, save for the small tremors that rushed through their flesh, and their lungs as the both took deep breaths of air. Sweat poured off them both, coating their skin and hair. They have yet to disconnect from the other. When they both finally lifted their heads from the others shoulder, they looked at each other and smiled. That smile turn to a grin, which turned to a chuckle, and then finally became a full fit of giggles and laughs from the both of them. They pulled each other into a tight hug, and continued to laugh, their fingers entwining the other’s sweat soaked, and rather messy hair.

Mila was the first to back off, and she laid a quick, tender kiss on his lips when she did. “I think I love you Ichigo.” She grinned when she said it.

Ichigo just stared, and then he chuckled. “Ya know, I was just thinking the same thing about you.” He grinned, she grinned wider, and the two of them broke out into a fit of laughter again, just before they dropped back onto the bed, still connected at the waist, and Mila sprawling out on top of him.

Outside the door, four individuals weren’t sure what they should be doing. And then the idiot amongst them broke the silence.

“NOW THAT’S MY BOY!!” Isshin stood and pumped his fists to the heavens, his face still red and his nose distorted by a large number of now bloody tissues. Then he pointed at the locked door, face beaming with perverted pride. “Ichigo! Now that you are a man, I expect to see some grandchildren very soon! It is your DUTY as a man to provide me with grand-kids to spoil!”

“Oh will you shut up!” Karin finally found herself, and she made sure that it hurt. He went down hard, clutching at the area between his legs. Karin huffed and looked at her sister and Rukia. Yuzu was red in the face.

“They were…” Yuzu looked at her sister. “They were…”

“Yeah. Yuzu, I don’t think you wanna dwell on that subject.” The young blond merely nodded and blushed. Rukia was blushing just as well.

“I was only kidding about the beast thing earlier,” she said quietly, pointer finger between her lips. “He really is a beast. And a strong one at that.”

“Don’t worry dear, sweet Rukia! That beast won’t get to you like he did to Mila-Rose!” Isshin was up and open-armed again. “I shall protect you!” Karin kicked him again, and he went down, this time bleached through. The three girls left him lying there in a crumpled heap. The young younger ones didn’t hear the contemplative thought that danced only once through Rukia’s mind.

‘I wonder if they’d let me join them?’

Back in Ichigo’s room, Mila still lay sprawled over Ichigo’s body, tracing small patterns on his chest with her fingers as her head rested against his left pectoral. She was listening to his heartbeat. His hand was splayed on her back, the other supporting his head as he stared at the ceiling.

“Ichigo?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you won’t die on me?”

He glanced down at her, catching wintergreen eyes. “Didn’t I already promise that you’d never lose me?”

She stroked her finger a little slower along his chest. “Yeah. I just want some reassurance.”

He sat up, taking her with him, and came eye to eye with her. He grasped her shoulders as she knelt. “Mila, I promise, I won’t leave you. Not for anything.”

Mila stared at him, and then smiled, leaning in. “Thank you Ichigo.”

He grinned, leaning in to meet her. “Anytime, Mila-Rose.” With that, the two of them shared a long, tender kiss.

People weren’t sure how things had gotten to the point that they had. Even the two of them weren’t. They were sure of one thing though. She had lost every reason to keep going, and he had brought all of them back.

**Author's Note:**

> And that is that. I've contemplated another chapter every now and then, but I've always been unsure. If it does happen, well... you'll all know. ;)


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